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At length the road came to the river’s side,
and we crossed on wooden bridges over two or three
arms of the Danube, all of which together were little
wider than the Schuylkill at Philadelphia. When
we crossed the last bridge, we came to a kind of island
covered with groves of the silver ash. Crowds
of people filled the cool walks; booths of refreshment
stood by the roadside, and music was everywhere heard.
The road finally terminated in a circle, where beautiful
alleys radiated into the groves; from the opposite
side a broad street lined with stately buildings extended
into the heart of the city, and through this avenue,
filled with crowds of carriages and people on their
way to those delightful walks, we entered Vienna!

CHAPTER XXII.

VIENNA.

May 31.—­I have at last seen the
thousand wonders of this great capital—­this
German Paris—­this connecting link between
the civilization of Europe and the barbaric magnificence
of the East. It looks familiar to be in a city
again, whose streets are thronged with people, and
resound with the din and bustle of business. It
reminds me of the never-ending crowds of London, or
the life and tumult of our scarcely less active New
York. Although the end may be sordid for which
so many are laboring, yet the very sight of so much
activity is gratifying. It is peculiarly so to
an American. After residing in a foreign land
for some time, the peculiarities of our nation are
more easily noticed; I find in my countrymen abroad
a vein of restless energy—­a love for exciting
action—­which to many of our good German
friends is perfectly incomprehensible. It might
have been this which gave at once a favorable impression
of Vienna.

The morning of our arrival we sallied out from our
lodgings in the Leopoldstadt, to explore the world
before us. Entering the broad Praterstrasse,
we passed down to the little arm of the Danube, which
separates this part of the new city from the old.
A row of magnificent coffee-houses occupy the bank,
and numbers of persons were taking their breakfasts
in the shady porticoes. The Ferdinand’s
Bridge, which crosses the stream, was filled with
people; in the motley crowd we saw the dark-eyed Greek,
and Turks in their turbans and flowing robes.
Little brown Hungarian boys were going around, selling
bunches of lilies, and Italians with baskets of oranges
stood by the side-walk. The throng became greater
as we penetrated into the old city. The streets
were filled with carts and carriages, and as there
are no side-pavements, it required constant attention
to keep out of their way. Splendid shops, fitted
up with great taste, occupied the whole of the lower
stories, and goods of all kinds hung beneath the canvass
awnings in front of them. Almost every store
or shop was dedicated to some particular person or
place, which was represented on a large panel by the
door. The number of these paintings added much
to the splendor of the scene; I was gratified to find,
among the images of kings and dukes, one dedicated
“to the American,” with an Indian
chief in full costume.